The Crown Prince of Clonmel
by EuminDeviant
Summary: Halt, the most enigmatic person in the whole series, is revealed to be a Hibernian Prince *gasp* and this is how I'll make it. Sticks with the book, so I guess It'll mostly be about Halt age only up to 18. Humor & Comfort mixed with chapters. I own nothing. I was never good at summary, please read it and then review :)
1. The Winter Day

**Hello, people! I'm back on Duty! Well, most of the people used to know me as Apprentice of Halt, but I changed my username to Eumin. I was uncertain if I should use this (because I use it as eumindeviant on tumblr), but I've grown to trust y'all. So I've been working on this doc for several months and I'm finally doing it!**

 **I really don't see why people aren't writing about Halt's past. I don't get any credit (course, all of it goes to the awesomest John Flanagan) but I'm quite proud to come up with this. Enjoy and Review!**

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It was a bitter night. The winter was the fiercest Clonmel had ever had. The wind ripped and bit everything in sight and the snow tore the ground as if it was eager to hurl itself onto the ground.

But to King Falton it was the most joyous day he ahd ever encountered.

It was December 31st, the last night of the year. As if bitter to let go, the night dragged on its torture of cold and harshness.

In the distance, King Falton heard the Village bell ring.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven,_ and finally, _twelve!_

A new year had begun.

He paced around his chamber, in front of the long, wide window that was filled up with streaks of stark white snow against the black sky. Several minutes had passed and he heard the soft patter of footsteps and he turned as a servant barged into the chamber.

"Your Majesty!" she exclaimed. "Queen Hazelle has given birth!" And King Falton was out and racing towards the nursery. He shouldered open the door and found his wife, Queen Hazelle, on the bed with her blue eyes shining and her golden hair splayed around her shoulders.

But the most welcoming sight was not her, but not only one but _two_ bundles!

"Twins!" he blurted, his joy doubling. She smiled up at him. "Indeed," she beamed. "Quick, who is who?"

"This," she said proudly, holding up a pale blue bundle, "is the latter, Ferris." Ferris's eyes were screwed shut and he was bawling loudly. She passed him to a nanny.

"And this," she paused dramatically, "Is our firstborn son Halt O'Carrick." She passed him into the King's arms.

Halt had black hair and dark eyes. He didn't cry. He was alert and lucid.

"I heard the bell ring. Exactly when were they born?"

"Halt's timing was uncanny, my lord. He was born exactly on the eleventh chime, a second away from the twelfth. Ferris was born seven minutes are him."

The King smiled. "Finally," he breathed. "An heir to the throne!"

Then, as Tradition and on impulse, he straighted up, lifted up his firstborn, and said in a deep voice that everybody clustered around in and outside the nursery could hear, he said,

"I announce the birth of my firstborn heir, Halt O'Carrick, born into the higheset royal class of O'Carrick line, firstborn to King Falton and Hazelle O'Carrick, First in Line to the Throne of the Northeast District of Hibernia, Crown prince of Clonmel, and King Halt in the incoming future. Let us celebrate!"

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 ***smug* How did it go? I think it's pretty good, don't you think? Oh I had** ** _so_** **much fun coming up with his full title! I mean, he can't just go as Prince Halt O'Carrick, can he? So this is the Full title. At least, I think Clonmel is in the Northeast of Hibernia... Correct me if it's not, pardon,** ** _in the review._**

Halt O'Carrick, Firstborn to King Falton O'Carrick, born into the highest royal class of the O'Carrick line,  
First in Line to the Throne of the Northeast District of Hibernia, Crown Prince of Clonmel.


	2. Rhese, a lifelong friend

**So this story isn't really canon but I had fun writing it. Rhese is an important streak, because I made him Sean's dad. No spoilers cuz it's romance. Review if you like it! Criticism if not. And please enjoy! It makes me happy :)**

 **I'm SSSSSOOOOOOO sorry I did not post this earlier. I didn't have time, my school busted in and my friend is going crazy, so I had to deal with her.**

 **So I'm planning to make this multi-chaptered. Up until Halt gets 18, when he leaves the kingdom. So this fanfic will have at least 18 chapters, then I'll have to post a multi-chapter story on one stage of his life, so stay tuned :)**

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Five-year-old Halt sat on the floor, annoyed. His twin brother was sitting next to him, crying loudly.

"Shut up," Halt muttered. The phrase was useful, but unfortunately Ferris was oblivious to its meaning. Instead, Ferris bawled louder, howling now. Halt grabbed a cushion and proceeded to cover his ears with it.

"Idontwantttowearthisitsuncomfyitsitchyits-"

"Shut up!"

Halt and Ferris had been told they were to be given each a playmate. They didn't know what it was, but it had a 'play' in the word, so Ferris was excited. Halt was skeptical, but he didn't know such a word yet, so he stayed quiet. While waiting for them, Ferris had gone bored and had started crying, which got up to Halt's nerves.

A few minutes later, their mother, Queen Hazelle O'Carrick, entered with two boys trailing behind her. One of the boys had brown hair and brown eyes. THe other had blonde hair and pale blue eyes.

"Halt, Ferris," the queen introduced. "This is Rhese and Marlin. Rhese, Marlin, they are your new masters Halt and Ferris."

Ferris had stopped crying and was staring, wide-eyed, at the newcomers while wrinkling his nose. When nobody made an attempt to greet each other, the queen was obliged to push Marlin gently to Ferris. "Now, Ferris, this is your playmate." Marlin looked at Ferris. Ferris looked back at him.

Hazelle then nudged Rhese to Halt. "Halt," she said. "From now on you'll play with him. This is your playmate." Halt looked at him. Rhese looked back at him.

Rather taken aback by the lack of enthusiasm, Hazelle turned to Ferris. "Now Ferris, will you show Marlin around?" Ferris, given something to do, brightened and took Marlin's hand and led him off. The Queen turned and followed them, leaving Halt and Rhese alone.

As soon as his mother left, Halt slumped on a couch and groaned. He didn't know what Rhese would mean to him since he could always use servants and the castle staff. He didn't 'play' like Ferris. Ferris would throw blocks and ride wooden horses while Halt would observe and quietly stack those blocks. And when he was learning to read he found them better than screaming. Unlike his twin brother, he never cried when he didn't get what he wanted. He personally liked to go out and be himself in the gardens or the trees instead of making the servants perform antics. He found Ferris's playing distant.

And he certainly had no experience with a 'playmate'. He disliked playing with Ferris. Well, he liked to visit his sister Caitlyn, but she was only an year old now.

He cracked open an eyelid. The redhead was still there, standing and Fingering his shirt. He sighed and rolled over.

"Care to talk?"

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 **Any guess of who Sean's dad was? *ULTRA BIG RED BLINKING HINT***

 ***BLARES SOME MORE***

 **Okay, I'm SO sorry I didn't post this! For those who have questions for me, PM me or ask me in tumblr (I'm eumindeviant)**


	3. The Intruder

**Here you go, Rangers! BTW I love reviews even though I don't own RA. Enjoying will make me happy. Reviews will double it.**

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A shadow flitted across the courtyard of Castle Dun Kilty. It came to a halt next to the castle wall. Around the bend was a guard, awake but not fully at attention. The shadow hesitated, then shrugged something long from his shoulder. A hand reached up and brought back down a stick-like thing. It was laid a ninety degree angle on the first long piece. The shadow then proceeded to draw a string back, and then released it.

The sergeant guard had been at the same position for several hours. He'd been alert but had abandoned to be after one or two hours. He leaned on his spear and thought about his day instead.

He was just mulling over his argument with a fellow soldier... when an arrow slammed into the wooden door, about a meter or so from his head.

He jerked up and let out a high-pitch scream, dropping the spear as he did so. Then, as he saw the arrow, discipline took over and he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted "Intruders! Enemy archer in the yard! Intruders!"Above him, he could hear the soldiers on the battlements running for the alarm and repeating his cry.

The shadow, who, in fact, was not an intruder and not an archer - not officially, anyways - ran lightly away, threading his way carefully through the shadows, making his way to one of the many watchtowers. He could see half-waken soldiers blearily streaming out of the door. He quickly joined in the throng, blending in with them. He pushed into the tower and wedged him up to the highest level. A brief shaft of light from a torch illuminated his features - messy black hair and dark eyes, a boy about thirteen years old.

When he emerged to the top he leaped onto the battlements and ran lightly into the central castle. There were no guards - they had left their posts for security. The boy shoved open the door and made his way in. After several chambers and hallways, he swung out of a window, grabbed a protuding brick and started to climb. He had gone about ten meters when he found an open window, Without bothering to check in the insides, he slid in, shrugged the bow and quiver off his shoulders and shoved them under a bed. He then closed the window behind him and took in his surroundings. It was a simple room, with a bed, a desk, a bookshelf, a closet and a wooden casket. He stepped up to the door and opened it.

A guard who happend to be running past hurriedly stood at attention. "Your Majesty!" he said instinctively. Then he racked his brain for something to say. "The sentry has been attacked! We are to warn you, sir. Reports to Prince Halt, sir."

The shadow, who was none other than Prince Halt himself, said nothing but raised an eyebrow. Rather hurriedly, the guard set off again. Halt stepped out into the hall and moved to the door oppsite his. He hesitated, then knocked. When there was no reply, he cautiously opened the door.

The hallway light fell in. "Caitlyn?" Halt called out softly. "Can I come in?"

"Please do," a voice replied.

Halt picked up a candle from the wall and stepped in. "Hey cat," he said. "It seems one of the guards got attacked. They're yelling for intruders."

Caitlyn, who was ten, sat up. The candlelight revealed curly golden hair and brilliant blue eyes. She grinned cheekily at him. "Intruders?" she asked. Halt grinned back at her. "The arrow wasn't intended to harm him. It hit a meter or so from his head."

Caitlyn turned a skeptical gaze at him. "And you can tell all this by simply listening?" Halt shook his head. "I was born with an uncanny sense of perception and foresight," he managed with a straight face. "At least the guards wil be more aware now," he reasoned. "They're too lazy these days."

"Are you taking credit?"  
"Anonymously."  
"You'd better hope father doesn't discover its you"

Halt's lip curled contemptuously. "It's too late to suspect me."

Caitlyn regarded him suspiciously. "How did you do it?" He smirked. "Ah, the castle's easy." he said vaguely.

Caitlyn pinched him on the arm. Long ago, Halt had found that it was a sign of impatience. He toyed with the idea of keeping her away, but finally he relented. "Fine," he said. "I climbed out of the window."

Caitlyn's eyes widened. "How? You climbed out the WINDOW? We're several hundred feet up and you're telling me you CLIMBED?"

"No," Halt said, amused. "If you climb out, and go a little down right, there's a window to the room of flags and coat-of-arms. It's a good place, plenty of hiding places and a carpet to muffle your footsteps. Well, throughout that, you go down to the battlements and then there's the watchtower. I took refuge in the confusion. Well, then the courtyard is easy. And I used the curtain on the first several attempts"

Caitlyn shook her head in wonder. "You never cease to amaze me, Halt. You made up all this?" "No, I've been scouting ahead for a few days. I planned the route for several weeks."

They heard a patter of footsteps and voices, then the door opened and in came Queen Hazelle dragging a half-waken Ferris in his nightclothes and trousers behind her. Despite himself, Halt snorted at his brother.

"Caitlyn!" the queen exclaimed, then, noticing her other son, added "Halt!" she stode across the room and pulled out a Caitlyn's coat."Children, come quickly. Your father has summoned us. Halt - ah, I see you've already dressed."

"I'd heard the alarm and thought I'd need to go out," he lied smoothly.

Their mother led her three children out. Caitlyn, who knew that the midnight alarm was Halt's fault, glared at him. Halt shurgged. They were led to their father's study. Farlon O'Carrick was waiting for them, sitting on his high chair at the head of the table. His lips were pursed together in a determined line. When he saw his family he gestured at them to sit at the table. The Queen took the seat opposite him and Ferris sat next to her. Halt and Caitlyn moved around the table.

"Children," began the king. "I must tell you something. I'm sure you were alerted of an intruder int he courtyard. We haven't caught him yet, but I suspect it's an assassin." Halt nearly laughed out. He covered it with a cough. His father continued, still serious. "Children, you are the most important people in Clonmel. It also means that if somebody unblanaces you, they disturb clonmel also. You are born into this life of caution and cliff journeys. I regretfully announce that you must adapt to this nature. You are thirteen and eight. I hope you are aware of this. You need support, even in this age. Trust the trustworthy. Make the faithfull loyal to you. As the highest class in clonmel, you are to be trusted in this." He looked around at his family. "Go back to bed, then," he said at last.

But as Halt took Caitlyn's hand and started to lead her out, Farlon placed a hand on his shoulder. "Stay. I need to talk to you." Ferris overheard and scowled. As he walked down the hall, he saw Caitlyn disappearing into her room. He paused. This was a good chance.

Particularly because he was standing in front of a certain door.

Halt sat next to his father. He felt uncomfortable. But at most, he felt a deep root of hate at the man. He recalled the long-ago event. Yes, it was long ago, but he would never be able to forget it. The jagged scars on his left shoulder blade made sure of that.

 _"You whelp! You mocked me of my honor!"_

 _"Father?"_

 _"Don't you father me! How dare you behave like that!"_

 _The seven-year old was blown sideways by a savage kick. He landed on the ground. Kicks and blows landed on him. He curved into a ball. He whimpered and cried, but the figure towering over him was oblivious to it. He could smell the alcohol. His rib cracked. Bruises throbbed. The figure still towered over him. The figure raised a hand and brought it back onto the seven-year-old's back._

 _By chance, it was holding a glass._

Farlon crossed his fingers. Finally he broke the awkward silence. "Halt... son," he started. "You're 13. You're to be the next king. And I know you're still young, but because you are the crown prince, people will look up at you for guidance. You are important to Clonmel. And because of you, enemies will make you their top priority. It seems the assassin had tried to unbalance Clonmel. Whatever the case, you need to stay strong and resiliant. And I trust you to be that." Still Halt said nothing. He was certainly not moved. And he knew there was no invasion. The 'assassin' was him.

Farlon sighed. "Good night, then," he said. Halt stood up and left the room. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he let out a laugh. "Assassin," he muttered.

But when he searched under his bed, he found his quiver gone.

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 **I mean, *dodges the tomato* Halt can't be always *potato sails over head* grim, can't he? He was a kid. I bet he wasn't so sad, only shy but *dives into cover behind the computer and types in furiously* I think he's taciturn and grim because he's grown up hard. His father, when drunk, beats him. And nobody understands him except for Caitlyn. She's the only think that keeps him sane, I think.**

 **Criticism fine! I just don't like brocolli! *dodges the brocolli***

 **Please review :)**

 **Have a nice day! Or evening, whatever time you read this.**


	4. The Bow Whip

**Me: I'm so sad to admit this but Ranger's Apprentice belongs to the awesomest John Flanagan. Not that I'm sad it belongs to him, but I wished I'd share!**

 ***John Flanagan glares at me* Me: Fine, no...**

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 _Thud. Thud. Thud._

The rhythmetic sound of arrows slamming into the dummy echoed through the combat practice yard. The archer trainees who were practicing stared in awe at the prince as he repeatedly fired arrow after arrow. The majority of them hit the target. The rest of them fell no more than several meters away from it.

The sound of scuffling sounded at the door, then out came Ferris. He looked around, spotted Halt, and marched over importantly. He grabbed Halt's left arm, causing the shot to skewer off to the left. Halt looked at his twin, a look of annoyment in his eyes.

"You're off doing archery again," Ferris accused. Halt made no reply but tucked the bow away. Ferris started to walk, dragging Halt along. Halt angrily snatched away his arm. Ferris turned on him. "Father told me to come get you," he said contemptuously. "He needs to show you... something," he said meaningfully. Then he flinched as his brother stepped up to him. "I know what," Halt spat, a dangerous look in his eyes. "You took my quiver didn't you? Showed him my arrow?" Ferris tried a look of innocence, but his eyes betrayed. They often did. They slid away and sought something else to look at.

Halt glared at him one last time, then walked away.

His father was waiting for him, silhouetted against the red coming from the sunset that slid in through the sindow. He said nothing as he saw Halt come in and close the door behind him. He turned slowly from the window.

"Ferris came and showd me... something interesting." he said at length. Halt met his gazed evenly.

Farlon took out a long, black arrow from under his cloak. "This," he said. "is the intruder's arrow. And this," he picked up an arrow from the quiver on the table. "Is you arrow."

They were identical.

Halt was ready. When the fist struck, he didn't flinch. He didn't cry out. His head was whipped to his right. His left cheek was already swelling.

Ferris, who was standing before the door, smiled cruelly as he heard the strike. He was a little skeptical when he didn't hear Halt cry out, but he reasoned he must had missed it. He felt smug.

Farlon's voice was neutral when he spoke. Emoitonless. "Take off you shirt," he said. When HAlt didn't move, he gripped Halt's hair - which was messy and uncropped - and dragged him forward until he was eye level with him. "I said," he repeated. "Take you shirt off."

When Halt, threw the garment off, he said again, "turn around."

Halt was again ready, but the pain outreached him. The bow, his own bow, struck his back. Hard. He sucked in a gasp. Again the bow rose. And again. And again.

On the tenth it stopped. Halt was barely standing, supporting himself by holding onto a chair. He could feel the heat - and the pain - rolling off his back.

His father's voice cut through the fog.

"Get out of my sight."

Halt, with shaking fingers, slid the shirt back on. As he managed out the door, he saw Ferris's door slam shut. Through the haziness, he felt a burning sense of hate. And sorrow at how his brother turned out. He dragged himself painfully, clinging to the wall, to his room. He was too tired to shut the door. He slumped onto his bed and instantly fell into the welcoming folds of unconsciousness that gave him a brief refuge from the pain.

It was an hour later when Caitlyn came. She was coming back from needlepoint class and she was ready to complain to Halt. However she found his door open. She frowned. Halt wasn't stupid enough to keep his door open. She peeked inside.

And saw Halt slumped on the bed. A split second, she thought he was napping. Then she saw his unnatural pose, draped vertically across the bed and his legs limp on the floor. And a small but rapidly spreading dot of red on the back of his shirt.

"Oh god!" she cried out. She dropped her kit and rushed in. She paused uncertaintly over him, then turned him over. He eyes were shut tight.

 _Rhese,_ she thought. Then she hurried out the door, this time keeping the door shut.

She found Rhese on the training yard, practicing with a sword. He was training to become Halt's personal guard. With a personal relationship, he would be a suitable candidate. But the thought didn't reach as far.

"Rhese!" she cried. He turned and saw her alarm expression. His welcome mood turned to worry. "What's wrong," he asked, dropping the sword and stepping forward to meet her. "It's Halt," she said. Her eyes darted around and landed on the trainer battlemaster. "Could you please excuse him?" And without bothering to hear his reply - she knew he'd say "Why yes, my lady" - she dragged Rhese away.

When Rhese saw Halt he went through two seconds of shock, and then determindness. "Get a bandage," he told Caitlyn. Normally he wouldn't dare order a princess, but he knew her long enough, and this was a dire situation. Caitlyn nodded and hurried off.

They treated him quickly. Rhese bandaged him and Caitlyn managed to give him some water. But as they worked, they were so concentrated on saving Halt that they failed to notice at how they worked so smoothly together. And so enthusiastically.

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 **I know I made you guys hate Farlon, but I had much fun writing the last part. Ooh, it was so... fangirlish. I have no hold over RA. Review if you enjoyed :)**


	5. Forgery

**I've got about eight more chapters planned out, so I don't worry about writer's block or anything yet. Just this episode I have to struggle through.**

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It was an unusual day, in which something unusual happened.

Halt was in history class, in which his choice of study were taught in. It was a drizzly and wet day, ideal for slouching indoors, not out in a desk studying alone with a teacher in a vast chamber.

Halt was nearly dying with boredom - and was absently drawing something on the corner of the page, and Ceticorus was rattling off about a war that happened between Clonmel and the Northwest kingdom Marote.

"The battle shed many blood and reaped many souls," recited Ceticorus. "It's considered one of the greatest, bloodiest battle Hibernia had ever faced."

The textbook was boring - there was no doubt about that - but there was on interesting drawings, with lots of entwined engravings on a white disk. He started imitating it, swiveling his hands this way and that, drawing the art into his hands and making them flow down his pen.

He was halfway done when he noticed that Ceticorus had stopped speaking. He quickly looked up and saw him looking down at his work with a bemused expression on his face.

No point in trying to make up or lying about this distraction, he reasoned. Instead he looked at Ceticorus's eyes, and waited for him to say something.

Ceticorus was a man in his middle ages, with slightly balding hair with watery brown eyes.

"How odd," Ceticorus muttered. Halt straightened, looking into those eyes, which seemed to be amused.

"What is?" he asked.

Ceticorus's gaze snapped back to reality. "Ah, nothing." he said, trying to gather back his bearings. "it's just that..."

"What?" Halt persisted. He abandoned the drawing, this time trying to steer the conversation away from what they actually should be talking about.

"Your imitation. It's perfect. I suppose you draw?"

Halt frowned. "No. Why would I?"

"It seems that you have the perfect skills of an artist. I look forward to your participation. And..."

Halt waited for an answer.

"It's just like a forger."

Halt knew he didn't mean offense. In fact, what he'd listened of a forger, he realized that he had been doing the same thing; imitating, although this wasn't anything harmful to politics.

"When I was younger, I was fairly good to. Knew how to carve things right out of the wood. Alas, my father persisted me to become a mentor for the prince. I even taught your father, you know."

"Yes, but what about forging?"

Ceticorus stared at Halt for a long time, as if assessing the young man.

"Do you want me to teach you to do it?"

"God yes."

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 **Out of all my chapters this is the most boring one. Seriously, I'm sorry for the Delay, and I'm trying to make up for it.**


	6. The First Assassination Attempt

**Life is cruel. Doc manager deleted this so I had to write it all over again.**

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It's sad how things happen when you don't expect them. Especially nasty things.

Ferris sat on the windowsill of his room, looking down at the courtyard below. Unlike Halt's room - which had the view over the walls of the Castle - he could see the inside yard of the castle.

 _Slam!_

He winced as, yet again, Halt's arrow slammed into the dummy that had been placed for Archery practice.

"Why," he muttered. "Does he have to do _that,_ of all things?" He envied his brother's skill in weaponry. Although Halt wasn't an excellent swordsman, he was an extremely talented archer - due to all his life's training.

 _Slam!_

Making a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, he turned and slipped down from the window seat. He knew that his brother didn't want the throne, yet he could see no way of achieving it for himself. He paced around his room, trying to think of a way.

A minute later, he chose to turn to a plan. A plan, which he had kept for years, but had never used it... yet.

Taking in a deep breath, he called his faithful servant, Marlin, in.

* * *

Halt wasn't planning anything except to eat, go to his room, and read.

Of course, he had absolutely nothing on his mind as dinner came in. The table was deathly quiet, the parents not even looking at each other. Halt sighed. He was no fool. He had heard them arguing more than a couple times. Chance were, he heard them arguing every night. They would argue about everything.

Well, everything except their precious Ferris.

He picked at his food, trying to think something. For some reason, at the table, he could never think about anything.

And then their was a sharp prick of pain in this gut. He winced, his hands instinctively going to his midriff.

"Halt?" That was Caitlyn's worried tone. He quickly looked up. His parents hadn't even stirred. Ferris, on the other hand, was looking away from him, staring at a painting that hung above the fireplace. Strange of him to look so enthusiastically study something he had seen for 16 years, every day.

He put his head on the table, taking deep breathes. The pain wasn't going anywhere. He gripped the table, realizing that it was intensifying, slowly burning in him, spreading like wildfire, as if he was something to consume.

A wave of nausea hit him. He could hold no more. He moaned, and, at the same time, rolled off the chair, falling into thick unconsciousness.

But the pain remained.

* * *

"Would he be alright?"

"Shhh, Caitlyn, be quiet."

"Mother! He's waking!"

Breathing. Strange of it to occur so importantly to him. Light pierced his sight as he cracked open his eyes.

"Halt!"

He could see Caitlyn over him, her anxious face relaxing when she saw him groan.

"Damn."

He saw his mother's expression turn to horror, but he kept repeating it. He felt nasty, like there was somebody - somebody _very_ heavy - sitting on his chest. It made breathing difficult. It felt worthless to keep doing it.

"Stop that," his mother told him, her voice stern. "I'm glad to see you awake, dear. I'll go alert the Healer."

"Wow, Halt." Caitlyn said as soon as Hazelle walked out of the room. "It's been a day since Mandar said you were going to be fine. You slept through all of it."

"What?"

"You were unconscious for three days, Halt. Aren't you-"

Halt's stomach rumbled.

"-hungry?"

"Yes." Groaning, he turned onto his side.

"I'll bring some porridge. You hate porridge, but that's the only thing you can eat now."

"Caitlyn?"

"Mm?"

"...I hate shrimp."

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 **Please Review.**


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